


Invasion of the Body Snatcher

by Abi (justabi)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Consent Issues, Genderbending, Masturbation, Other, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-22
Updated: 2006-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:51:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justabi/pseuds/Abi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When McKay barrels through the door, Ronon has his dick in his hand. (Tag for the episode Duet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invasion of the Body Snatcher

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a birthday gift for the lovely Fashes who has tirelessly fine-tuned and helped creepify everything I have written in forever. Love you so much. Chimosa, diluvian, mecurtin and rosewildeirish get all kinds of love and kisses for being lighting ninja betas.

When McKay barrels through the door, Ronon has his dick in his hand.

Ever since coming to Atlantis, where he has no need to run or hide or set traps or a million other things he has had to do to survive, no need to search for shelter or food or a place to bathe, his appetites have been returning to him with a vengeance that leaves him practically shaking. There is plenty of food to be had, so he eats until his sides hurt, sits for a while and eats more. He is still hungry.

As for his other _appetites_, the guards haven't left him any chance to get close enough, to slake it with another body. They wouldn't even let him shut the door to speak with Teyla Emmagen, and she could take out the guards more easily than they could protect her. When he fights with the men Sheppard sends to him, he hits _hard_, the only thing he can do to stop himself from throwing them down and rutting against them, willing or not. The way Sheppard looks at him, he knows Sheppard would fuck him, take him hard, make Ronon belong to him in a way he could never escape, but Ronon has been there before and vowed _never_ to be that vulnerable again. The thought sends shivers of dread and lust down his spine. No matter how much Ronon wants it, he can't take that from Sheppard.

He hasn't touched himself this much since he was 13 and newly presented to Kel, unable to wait for the release doled out to him for his triumphs. Idleness and years of repressed need combine now in a way that leaves him panting and needy for touch, any touch, even his own with an alarming frequency. He's brought himself off four times already today, once upon waking, once after his meal and twice after fighting with the soldiers. Sheppard watches him as if he, too, is as hungry as Ronon. Ronon can't even wait to take off his pants, he just unlaces the front and rucks up his shirt before jerking himself hard and fast the moment the door slides shut after his evening _training_ session. He's three maybe four strokes away when McKay blusters his way through the door.

“I'm Rodney McKay, _Doctor_ Rodney McKay, and my security clearance is higher than God's for some reason, so I'm sure your orders don't apply to _me_. Now, stand aside.” McKay backs into the room making little shooing motions at the guards behind the door. When it slides shut, McKay leans back onto it heavily. “Sheesh. You wouldn't think that would be such a hassle with the clearance he's got. Damn, no wonder he's so cranky all the time. Whoa there, big boy,” he says, wide eyed as he takes in Ronon. “What were you, raised by wolves? In polite society people don't spank the monkey in front of their guests, if you know what I mean.”

He doesn't. There is deep triangle of skin showing at McKay's throat, down his chest, his hands absently pulling the clingy shirt taut. Ronon imagines dragging his tongue across it and strokes himself once, slow and deliberate. “Didn't invite you.”

“Yes, well,” McKay says, staring at the motion of Ronon's hand. A pink hint of tongue darts out across his lips as he steps away from the door. “I'm still a guest, and my mother taught me always to be gracious about offering my hostess a hand. Not that you're a hostess. I mean, you are definitely a man. A great big slab of incredibly hot muscle bound Neanderthal, which really isn't my type, but... I like 'em sensitive and smart, like Carson. _Carson_. Yes, I like Carson. But god, you are fine aren't you? Damn.”

Ronon chuckles as McKay slides to his knees at the side of his bed, still staring, eyes almost as glazed with lust as Ronon's own must be.

“Can I...” McKay asks, ghosting his fingers along Ronon's dick.

Ronon shudders and sucks in a breath. McKay doesn't wait for any other answer before dipping his head and licking the moisture off the tip and gripping the base. The touch isn't as hard as Ronon wants, but if it was Ronon would come right then. He holds back long enough for McKay to suck him down quick and dirty once, twice and then he's shooting into McKay's crooked mouth and McKay is spitting it out as fast as it comes.

“Damn. Give a girl some warning, Big Man,” McKay says, wiping his mouth and making a face. “Guess it's been a while for you, too, huh?”

Ronon just grunts and drops his head to the bed beneath him and lolls it to the side to get a better look at McKay as McKay nudges him over on the bed.

“God, Carson forgive me, but I can't stop touching you,” McKay says, leaning down to mouth the skin beneath his navel.

Ronon shudders again. He'll be hard again soon, he can feel it, and he has no intention whatsoever of letting McKay out of here without somebody getting fucked. “Fuck me,” he growls, fists clenching in air as McKay's tongue swirls in the short hairs at his groin.

“Oh, fuck, _yes_,” McKay says like he's drugged, unconsciously rubbing himself into the bed and Ronon's calf. “Just because Rodney can't see an opportunity to expand his horizons doesn't mean I can't. I had this strap-on once in college, Bertha, and goddamn did we have some fun with that. Always wanted... uuugnh,” McKay moans. Ronon takes the opportunity to flip him onto his back, shoves a knee between his thighs and grinds down hard.

“Holy fucking shit. Clothes. Off. _Now_,” McKay says as he runs his hands up Ronon's chest under his shirt.

It takes a minute, but they're finally naked. McKay's hands wrap themselves in Ronon's hair and suddenly Ronon's having his first kiss since he was a boy and his mother left him with Kel, the last genuine affection he'd ever gotten. Only McKay's kiss is wetter and deeper and nothing like his mother and Ronon has never experienced anything this... intimate. His mind whites out for a moment and when he comes back to himself he's whimpering and humping McKay's leg like an animal.

McKay strokes his flanks and makes calming noises and whispers, “I got you, baby. I'll take care of you,” into his hair, dry kisses pressed beneath his ear.

Ronon gets control, control he hasn't had to work for in years, and stills on his hands an knees, head hanging down, sweat bathing his back.

“That's my boy,” McKay coos with a raised eyebrow and shimmies out from underneath him. “Be a good boy and stay just like that while I find something slick.”

Ronon grunts and tosses his head in the direction of the little table by his bed. McKay finds the pot of cream that he'd given Ronon a week ago, muttering about melons and peeling and the sun on the planet they'd found him on. It smells good, sweet like food, but it tastes like wax.

“Mmm. Pina colada,” McKay says, sniffing the jar as if he's never seen it before. “You done this before?”

Ronon just nods and grits his teeth as McKay's fingers slide inside him. Ronon could have gotten himself off twice in the time it takes McKay to prepare him, never quite enough to be anything but maddening. Ronon growls with impatience, but it's worth it when he finally feels McKay's cock shoved inside him, though, rough and fast just like Ronon remembers, just like he's been aching for since he came to this place. Ronon reaches up to touch himself; he knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't, but he doesn't give a fuck at this point, but if the whorish moaning is any indication, McKay doesn't care either. Ronon comes, dizzy with relief and release and his arms collapse. McKay is boneless across his back, panting for breath. The weight of another body against his is so welcome he's almost immediately asleep.

Ronon wakes when the guards at the door change. There's no sign of McKay. It should worry him that he missed that, but right now he doesn't care.

His stomach growls; he's hungry again.


End file.
